Rogue Sign Read online

  Sitting at the table next to me was a gorgeous complement of women. Five ladies, four species, and three of those species I’ve enjoyed numerous times in various levels of…well, everything.

  I asked them to join me and the light-hearted conversation helped soothe the last of the sting of Dejar’s words.

  What did he know, anyway?

  One of the women, a voluptuous, blue-skinned vixen that I recognized as one of Madam Ora’s minxes, had her hand on my leg, slowly making its way up. I wasn’t complaining as I leaned in and whispered nonsense in her ear. She giggled and gave me a playful squeeze on my inner thigh, letting her fingers lightly brush against me.

  I was having fun. The other patrons weren’t entirely thrilled with me, but I didn’t care. These ladies were sensational.

  “Oh, Baiviel,” one of the girls cooed.

  Despite Dejar’s thoughts about my competence, I did know better than to use my real name. “I want to go dancing. Will you go dancing with us?”

  The other ladies chirped in, and the one squeezing my leg moved her hand and gave me another squeeze as she smiled at me, adding her own silent persuasion to the verbal pleas.

  “I would be honored and thrilled to spend more time with you beautiful ladies,” I laughed as I flashed a promise to my squeeze-friend. I called for the check, paid for the food and drinks—we had gone through three bottles? —and retrieved my coat as we left.

  “So,” I asked, “where are…” I had to take a deep breath as the ground swam away from me for a quick moment. “Where are we headed? I can’t wait to see how you ladies move.” I wrapped one arm around my little blue friend and the other around the Pronarian goddess that had been licking her lips and batting her eyes at me all evening.

  Madam Ora’s establishment would wait. The idea of these two women, maybe three or more of them—and the effects of the liquor—had me imagining so many things to do on this fine evening.

  “I know a place,” the Pronarian answered. “How about The White Hole? Z is working the music there tonight.” The girls all squealed at that and started dragging me down the street. After a block or so, we arrived and were waiting in line. As we waited, I felt two hands on my backside and returned the favor. I leaned over to nibble on the Pronarian’s ear a bit when I saw something that snapped me entirely to attention.

  At the end of the street was one of the women from the Rogue Star.

  While the human women were good at disguising themselves, I could easily pick them out in a crowd.

  And no matter how she dyed herself, I’d recognize Aryn.

  She was doing her best to keep attention off herself, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

  I’d watched her for far too long not to recognize her anywhere.

  And she wasn’t supposed to be out here. It wasn’t safe.

  “I’m so sorry, ladies. I just remembered that I have an appointment that I must attend to.”

  “Aww, are you sure?” the blue one asked as she grabbed my face and kissed me, hard. A quick wave of revulsion at myself passed through me as I gently detangled my limbs.

  But I could see Aryn out of the corner of my eye. She was going to get into trouble. Or be trouble for someone.

  Either way, she needed me.

  Even if she didn’t know it.

  “I’m sorry. How about we get back together later? Deal?”

  At their sad little nods, I left to follow Aryn, shoving down the growing worry.

  Aryn

  “Damn it,” I muttered, staring at my palm. I knew I’d forgotten something. I was so worried about getting out without getting caught that I hadn’t retraced either of the two marks onto the palm of my hand. I’d done it the previous night and the night before.

  The lines from last night hadn’t completely washed off, and I could faintly see them through the pale green skin dye. One had been at the bottom of the list of women we’d rescued from Katzul.

  The other had been branded into the skin of the bounty hunter who had nearly killed us all.

  I wouldn’t easily forget either.

  Each design was a rounded square, lines curling inside to make a pattern. Not quite the same, but close enough that there had to be a tie between them. Anything that looked similar would be worth checking out.

  The third clue I was looking for I didn’t need a reference for. I was familiar enough with the differences between the Dominion’s sigil and the fake one that if I saw it anywhere on the station, I’d recognize it.

  From what Captain Dejar and Aavat said, the oval mark was a spin on the sigil of the Dominion, the organization that had eyes everywhere and a hand in everything. The official Dominion sigil was a two-dimensional grid map of Dominion space, encircled by a thin silver band.

  I’d only really seen it a few times, on paperwork around the ship and embroidered onto the black robes of a Dominion Official that tried to kidnap me and the other human women.

  Not a fun day.

  The Dominion dabbled in morally gray areas to preserve the safety of Dominion space, including warrants on the heads of the entire Rogue Star crew for accidentally entering the forbidden space of the Terran System.

  The Dominion also wanted me and the rest of the human women for being unauthorized lifeforms or some crap like that. They didn’t seem to care that our options were either enter Dominion space or die.

  The false Dominion mark showed different stars, and instead of a silver band, the map of the sigil was encircled by some kind of serpent eating its own tail.

  Charming.

  I’d taken a good look at it every time I’d taken food to the rescued women. If I saw it, or anything that looked like the other two strange marks, I’d have the next clue.

  The sting of my nails biting into my palm caught my attention. I slowly, deliberately unclenched my hand.

  Everyone was safe, for now.

  And I was going to damn well keep it that way.

  As I passed through the thrumming heart of Qasar Station, I kept my head down. Dominion law ran this station, but its officials weren’t often present here.

  The station floated in the farthest reaches of deep space and, apparently, Dominion officials couldn’t be bothered to make such an arduous journey.

  Needless to say, I wasn’t a fan of faceless organizations, though I was all too familiar with the faces that ran the Terran System.

  Perhaps I should say I don’t like organizations, in general. Organizations certainly didn’t like me. If they didn’t make it impossible for the ordinary citizen to survive, I wouldn’t have to cheat their systems. So, who’s fault was it, really?

  I’d left the heart of the station and moved toward the outskirts. The buildings were made of the same white material, though duller, dingier, somehow. The lights in this part of the center had a sickly yellow tinge to them. Music no longer tumbled out of establishment doors, and the walkways weren’t infused with the scents of cart vendors.

  If an underground organization was on the station, it would be in a place like this. They’d likely frequent the center for quick jobs, but their headquarters wouldn’t be so close to their targets. They wouldn’t be on the far outskirts, either. Fewer people on the outskirts meant it was harder to blend in. This middle ground was perfect for anonymity.

  The streets were far less crowded than they were in the center, but they weren’t totally abandoned. There weren’t half as many shops, either. I spied a low building with glowing windows and an open door.

  I approached at a casual pace, blending in with the natural pace of the thin crowd. A sign was mounted above the doorway, though I couldn’t read the characters. That wasn’t a problem. I knew what this place was the moment I looked in.

  I didn’t know what such an establishment was called on Qasar Station, but in the Terran System, it was called a bar.

  I walked through the open doorway, making sure the heels of my boots made a hard impact against the floor. A few patrons lifted their heads to look at me. I avoided
eye contact and looked around the place with a calculated expression of disinterest before making my way over to the main bar.

  The creature tending the bar looked as unimpressed with me as I pretended to look with his place. Creature was the only way to describe him. It. Whatever. None of his limbs looked like they were from the same life form. His bottom teeth stuck out over his top lip. Each tooth was wildly different than the last. He was meant to have two eyes, but he only had one. The other was just a hole.

  I didn’t flinch. I’d seen uglier mugs than his.

  I took a seat at the bar, knowing he would take his sweet time coming to serve me. I was an outsider. I wasn’t yet worth rushing for. Secretly, I was glad for it. It gave me more time to polish up what I was going to say.

  Old, familiar habits of thought washed over me, comforting in their familiarity. As much as I hated the situation we’d been forced into, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy a chance to use my old skills.

  I couldn’t ask outright about the marks. That would immediately tip him off that I was up to something. I couldn’t look around the bar again, either. If I did, I’d look like I was searching for something or just plain nosy. Neither was a good impression to make.

  I focused on what I’d seen when I first entered. Most of the patrons sat alone in silence with grim expressions and half-finished drinks. That told me that this wasn’t a place people came to have fun. This was a place where people came to forget or think too much.

  If the patrons in this bar were here to forget the usual misfortunes and tragedies of life, there’d be conversation and yet there was none. No conversation meant secrets, things that couldn’t be spoken aloud in case passersby overheard.

  I’d been in many places like this before. It didn’t matter that none of the patrons were human. Some things transcended humanity.

  The tricky part was going to be getting information.

  Luckily for me, it was my favorite part of the job.

  With a plan in mind, I grabbed a napkin from the messy stack at the head of the bar and made a rough sketch of the mark that had been on the list hanging in the cargo bay. I’d seen it the most often, it came easiest to mind, it’s curls and waves almost familiar.

  By the time I finished, the bartender had made his way over to me.

  “What do you want?” he grunted. His single eye searched my face.

  I stared at him blankly. “What’s your specialty?”

  The bartender chuckled. “You couldn’t handle it.” He eyed me up and down.

  “Wanna bet?”

  “What do you want?” I had his attention now.

  “Bring me your worst. If I can handle it, I get a free drink and one question answered.”

  His bull-like ears flattened against the side of his lumpy head. “What kind of question?” His upper lip curled into a snarl.

  “I’m new in town.” I smiled lazily. “I need directions.

  “The station center has maps. Go there,” he huffed.

  “What I’m looking for isn’t on the station maps.” I traced a finger in slow circles on the surface of the bar.

  He looked at me for several beats before lumbering away to prepare my drink.

  He came back with a chipped glass filled with thick, dark sludge. I carefully hid the disgust rising in me.

  “Go on, now,” he sneered.

  Shit.

  Before I could think too much about it, I grabbed the glass and began to chug. Thick goop slid over my tongue and down my throat. I’d never tasted anything so vile in my life. Twice I thought I was going to spew it all back up, but somehow, I kept it down.

  When I was nearly finished, it occurred to me that perhaps the contents of this hell-drink could be toxic to humans. Well, it was too late to do anything about that now.

  I slammed the empty glass down on the table. The bartender wouldn’t give me the satisfaction of looking surprised. Bastard.

  “What do you want to know?” He shrugged and placed his gnarled hands on the surface of the bar.

  “I’m looking for work,” I said. “A friend of mine from Katzul knew I was coming here. He sent me a message saying some guys around here were looking for someone with my…skill set.” I paused, looking up at the bartender to make sure I had his attention. His eye narrowed just slightly. He didn’t know what to make of me. Good.

  “Now, my friend isn’t a fool. He didn’t give me any names. Didn’t want me arriving on Qasar with dangerous information,” I shrugged. “All he gave me was the name of this place, and this symbol.” I pushed the napkin toward the bartender. “Do you know where I can find them?”

  The bartender looked down at the napkin. His gaze grew cold and hard. He pushed the napkin back toward me.

  “Don’t know nothing about that,” he growled. He was lying. I could feel it in my bones.

  “A deal’s a deal,” I said through my teeth.

  “You asked a question. I answered it,” he replied. “You calling me a liar?” Other patrons took notice of us. I’d made a mistake somewhere.

  Dammit.

  There was nothing I could do about it now.

  “Of course not,” I stood up slowly, making sure the flicker of fear didn’t show, couldn’t show. “Thanks for nothing.”

  Kovor

  She wasn’t in that dive for very long.

  I had contemplated following her in but decided against it, instead waiting, ears stretched, for any noise of distress.

  I was more than a bit curious as to what she was doing, but didn’t want to make a scene, possibly put her more at risk.

  As she walked away, I hurried over to the bar and glanced inside. Everyone in there looked tired with life and not at all like anyone the women should be interested in dealing with, so why was Aryn in there?

  I debated going in to ask, but then she rounded a corner, leaving my view.

  Decision made.

  What could she possibly be doing? Was she trying to find some companionship that she wasn’t getting on the ship? Was she looking for a clandestine way back to the Terran System?

  A thought struck me as she turned another corner into an alleyway.

  What if she was looking for information about the auctions?

  Icy fingers stroked my spine. It wasn’t safe on Qasar at night, not for our Terran women, not for Aryn to be out alone, vulnerable.

  I turned the corner she had turned to see her turn yet another corner. Where the kopa was she going? I stumbled over something unmentionable in the street but kept my footing. Blinking, I impatiently shook the last bit of haziness of the liquor away and turned the corner.

  There she was.

  Just a bit further down the small passageway, looking at something to the side.

  “Hey,” someone with an extremely gruff voice said behind me. I turned to see two figures standing at the last corner, both leaning against the building. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

  “Who? Me?” I asked, pointing at myself, hoping to keep their attention away from Aryn. “I was just walking around, must have gotten a little lost.”

  They stepped away from the building and walked towards me. Both were in some well-worn clothes, the hoods of their jackets pulled over their heads. Neither of them was bigger than me, but there were two of them and when they pulled their hands out of their pockets, their claws were easily visible.

  “Look, friends,” I said as I put my hands up, “I sincerely apologize for intruding. I’m sort of new here, wasn’t sure where I was going, must have made a wrong turn. You know what?” I said as I took a few steps backwards. “Why don’t I treat you two to a drink, maybe some food. Whatever you two want, my treat.”

  They looked at one another, and while I couldn’t see their faces, I did hear their sneering laughter. The other one spoke, his voice higher pitched than his friend’s, and with a bit of an accent, as if the words were mangled by protruding teeth.

  Or tusks.

  Lovely.

  “Ye got
money, eh? Now why don ye jus giv us all dat money, and mebbe we gon letchu lone.”

  “I…could do that,” I said slowly, trying to impress upon them my innate harmlessness and state of inebriation. “But I think it would be a lot nicer if I treated you guys to something nice to eat and drink. Maybe,” I took another step backwards. “Maybe I can help you guys with your wardrobe, introduce you to some nice girls…or boys if that’s your style…and we forget that all of this happened.” Without meaning to, I burped, which brought a chuckle from my two new friends.

  Gruffy spoke up. “You tryin’ to say we don’t dress so good?”

  “No, no, no. Not what I’m saying at all. As a matter of fact, I like your beaten-in look, the clothes look comfortable.”

  They didn’t seem to be buying it.

  Scro.

  I looked behind me and cursed silently. I hadn’t been paying attention and had somehow turned slightly. There was a giant trash receptacle right behind me, and Gruffy was making his way to my left, blocking my way out.

  Okay, I’d been in worse situations. As long as their claws weren’t poisonous, I could handle them.

  More importantly, they had no interest in Aryn or anyone else but me.

  Mission accomplished.

  I put my hands down and stopped moving. “Alright, alright. It seems as though you’ve got me in a corner. Literally. What can I get the two of you in order to leave me alone?”

  It was Accent that answered my question. “We want alla yer money. You come down hyer, dresst like dat, you gots ta have som money. And we wants it.”

  “Well, to be honest with you two fine gentlemen, I actually don’t have any credits on me. I spent it all on some very beautiful women a little while ago. I was looking for somewhere to get some money out and got lost.”

  I shifted my weight to the balls of my feet, muscles in my calves flexing, ready to spring. “If you two could just show me where to go, I’ll gladly pay you for your help. Just name your price.”

  Suddenly there was an awkward grunt from my left.